


Milkshake

by the_parentheticals



Category: Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children - Ransom Riggs
Genre: Milkshakes, Other, Reader is pissed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:21:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29824857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_parentheticals/pseuds/the_parentheticals
Summary: my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard.if by "all", you mean "one of", and if by "yard", you mean "alley."you really wish it didn't.
Relationships: Millard Nullings/Reader
Kudos: 2





	Milkshake

**Author's Note:**

> (Original note)  
> Hey guys, this is the surprise I was telling you about. It’s my first x Reader I’m actually confident enough to put here. Hope you enjoy, and feedback is appreciated.

It wasn’t a particularly hot day, especially for Florida, but it was still annoying, and you wished you could just take all your clothes off and lie down.

You were walking along the sidewalk holding a milkshake you sipped every few seconds. You were bored. Very bored. But your parents expected you to get out of the house and not spend the entire day with your nose in a book. You were getting a little tired of them. You watched people absentmindedly. A woman pushing a stroller, an old couple, a naked teenage boy…

Wait, a naked teenage boy? You shook your head, hoping you were wrong. But no. Naked.

He wasn’t even making any attempt to cover himself, which meant… yep. You took a quick look and decided you didn’t want to look at private parts ever again. At the very least, not his.

“Well, there goes my appetite,” you mumbled.

Strangely, no one else was reacting or even looking at him, as if they’d made a consensus to ignore him and somehow he’d go away. And he didn’t look embarrassed about it at all, more like he was just annoyed and this sort of thing happened daily. It made you kind of mad that he would treat this like it was normal.

You crossed the street in a rush, still staring at him, like when you looked away he would disappear. You didn’t know why you wanted to follow him. For all you knew, he could be a murderer or a pickpocket.

Okay, maybe not a pickpocket, since the whole point of pickpocketing was to blend in, but still.

And you were running now, your hand still wrapped around the milkshake you didn’t even want anymore, silently cursing your choice of flip-flops. He didn’t seem to notice you or didn’t care if he did.

“Hey!” you yelled as he turned a corner. He turned to look at you but then turned away with a confused look. “Hey, this isn’t a nudist colony! It’s not! So, put some clothes on!”

The boy looked at you slightly worriedly. You groaned.

“Hey, I’m talking to you! Do you see anyone else running around naked?” You put one hand on your hip.

He looked confused, angry, and worried all at once, and you started to think this was a bad idea. But you’d gone so far…

“I’m going to be reasonable with you. Give me one reason why I shouldn’t call the cops on you and I won’t.”

The boy paused for a moment, and in that moment you got a good look at his face. He was average-looking, and maybe someone else would even call him attractive, but you weren’t that person. His expression didn’t change as he said, “No one would believe you.”

You froze for only a second, and that second gave him enough time to turn and run away from you. As you were only processing that, your feet followed him, almost like they were on autopilot. You gave a quiet sigh.

“Get back here! Get back!” He didn’t look back at you but just kept running.

You kept following him as he turned quick corners to back alleys. Was there no limit to how long he could run? You had given up trying to be stealthy in your neon t-shirt and flip-flops and you let the adrenaline take over and ran. You didn’t know where he was taking you and somehow you didn’t care. This was finally something story-worthy in your humdrum life!

You emerged on a brightly lit but still mostly unoccupied street. The few people who were there didn’t look at him either, only at you. As you raised your hand to block the Sun, you noticed that the boy didn’t cast a shadow.

This only made you more curious about him. Desperate times called for desperate measures. You uncapped your milkshake (you didn’t particularly like it anyway) and threw it over him.

It seemed to happen in slow motion as it fell on him and he realized what had happened. He whirled around, and you realized he actually looked a little panicked. It ran down his hair (which was probably the most attractive thing about him, if you were to be honest) and you weren’t completely sorry that you’d gotten some in his eyes. At least he was actually paying attention to you.

And everyone was staring now. You reached out and squeezed his arm.

“You’re going to come with me,” you hissed. You tugged on his arm, and maybe he understood. Maybe he was just too surprised. But he didn’t resist as you pulled him behind a building, where hopefully no one would think to look. He had calmed down significantly by then but was still staring at you coldly.

“Okay. Who are you and why wouldn’t they believe me?” You were upset now, but you still managed to be calm enough. The milkshake hadn’t covered his entire face and he was quickly wiping it away. You wished he wouldn’t. He still deserved it in his eyes.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked, flicking some chocolate milkshake in your direction. You wanted to laugh.

“No, it’s not! Look, tell me who you are and why you’re naked and I won’t call the cops on you and we can just pretend this never happened.” He looked down embarrassedly. “Look. At. Me!”

His head shot up. “What did you say?”

“Who are you and _why_ are you naked?”

“No, after that.”

You stomped your foot. He was really starting to annoy you. “Then, we can pretend this never happened.”

“You said, ‘Look at me,’ didn’t you?” The boy stared into your eyes. “Didn’t you?”

“It doesn’t matter! Tell me _why you are naked_ and it won’t matter!” You ran a hand through your hair. So he _had_ gotten milkshake in it.

“You aren’t supposed to be able to see me,” he said dryly.

“I don’t understand.” Oh god. Maybe the police station wasn’t who you needed to call.

“Look at me.” You raised your eyebrows a little. “What do you see?”

“A naked sixteen-year-old covered in chocolate milkshake who probably needs to be taken to—”

“I’m seventeen, but thank you. And I don’t need to be taken anywhere.” He was quiet, but extremely excited. “This is so fascinating. Unprecedented in peculiardom.”

“No, what I’m saying is we obviously need to call a mental hospital since you’re _out of your mind_.” You said that last part extremely slowly. “I’ll give you one more chance.”

“Apologies. Should’ve used a simpler explanation. Hello. My name is Millard.” Well, at the very least if the mental hospital came calling you’d be able to tell them that. “I’m invisible. Except, apparently, to you.”

You sighed. Maybe it was best to play along in case he was speaking metaphorically. “Hi, Millard. I’m (Y/N) and you’re going to have to work very hard to get over my first impression of you.”

“You still don’t believe me, do you?” He paused. “Do you have a phone?”

What kind of question is that? you wondered. But, if he was a mental patient…

“You can’t have it!”

All I need you to do is take a picture of me with it.” Now you were really starting to doubt he was a mental patient. What kind of mental patient told someone their name and then asked you to take their photo? But if he was… well, at the very least you could show it to the police.

“Fine.” You leaned against the wall and slid your phone out of your pocket. You took the photo without really looking or thinking too much. “What nex— oh _god_.” You stared at the resulting photo blankly. Millard’s face was only visible where there was still mostly-dry milkshake on it, which wasn’t much. The rest was invisible.

If he was telling the truth… it explained a lot. The odd looks—of course, they couldn’t see him before you threw the milkshake, so he looked like nothing but a floating human-shaped mass of milkshake afterward. The lack of shadow… nothing to see, nothing to block the light with. The nakedness… well, it probably didn’t work on clothes if he was always invisible.

Were you really starting to believe him? Maybe it was true. Maybe you were hallucinating. It was best to play along, until you were totally sure.

“Are we sure there’s no one you want to call?” Your hands gripped the phone so tightly you were afraid you’d drop it.

“There is, but I’d prefer we had a private conversation.” Could you trust him with your phone? If he was real he probably wouldn’t take it, and if he was a figment of your imagination it didn’t matter.

“As long as you don’t take it.”

“I wouldn’t do that.” And you believed him.

“Here you go, then.” You gave a dry smile and pressed it into his hand, slowly and carefully, still not sure he was really there. He looked a little surprised.

You really hoped he wasn’t a mental patient.

Were you hallucinating? Yes, that was possible. That was very possible. You weren’t sure, but for hallucinating people it really did seem real. So someone inside the hallucination had no way of knowing. Or something like that? You were pretty sure you hadn’t experienced any traumatic events lately. Or taken any drugs.

Millard had finished the call by then and he handed the phone back to you. You slumped against the wall.

“Wait, whoever you called is going to pick you up, right?” You shoved it in your pocket. “Cause I’m not bringing an invisible boy home.”

He shook his head. “You don’t need to worry about that.” He paused. “Are your parents expecting you home?”

“No.” You widened your eyes. Whoever the crazy one was here, you weren’t going anywhere with him. “I’m not going to… wherever.” You scrambled away. “I don’t know if you’re crazy, or I’m crazy, or both of us are. But I’m not going anywhere with you until I know you’re not a murderer.”

“Why would I be a murderer?”

“You could be. You’re naked. Why not violent?” Okay, so it didn’t really make much sense. But better safe than sorry. and you were panicking.

“How do I prove I’m not?” He seemed almost curious. If he really was invisible, he’d want to know, probably. If he was a regular person, there was no harm in asking him. If he was a murderer? There were enough people there for at least someone to help you. Assuming bystander syndrome wasn’t a factor. If he was a figment of your imagination? It didn’t matter.

“Give me your number. We’ll talk later.” He seemed almost embarrassed when you said that.

“I.. don’t have a phone. No place to keep it.” He gestured to himself.

“You’re usually in the habit of running around naked?” You probably should’ve known that already, but you still filed that piece of information away. Both of you paused.

“How about we meet tomorrow at Smart Aid?” he asked finally. “My … friend … works there.”

“The nearest one to here?” He nodded. “That’s fine.” Public place. Wasn’t exactly abandoned. And you could stay close to the entrance.

Millard looked around the corner. Most of the people were gone, and you really hoped no one had taken photos. “Jacob’s going to be here soon. Is there anything else I could possibly do to convince you I’m telling the truth?”

“No…” You tilted your head a little. “Wait, yes. What’s your last name?”

“Hmm? Oh, Nullings. Millard Nullings.” And then he ran off and you were left with only the photo to convince you he’d ever really been there.

As you made your way back home, you couldn’t help it as one thought popped into your mind.

_I really hope he’s real._

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this is really old, and there are a lot of things I don't like about it, but whatever.


End file.
